Several snowflakes catch in my long mane of fiery red hair which creates an icy veil on the top of my small head. The world that was once vibrant greens, yellows, and reds has become one electrifying shade of white. I trudge through the thick layers of powder that lay on the ground, trying to run as fast as I can. Having just moved North a few years ago I’m not used to snow like this. I’m used to the warmth of the sun shining down on me, but not the cold bite of winter.
I continue to pump my legs through the snow but they can’t keep up with my excitement. He’s home.

I finally get to the large field where I spent most of my summer days, which has now been transformed into a winter wonderland. And there he is. My dad is standing on the other side of the yard. He’s home.

And now we’re running. Running like in the movies. Running towards each other at full speed because we can’t wait even one more second for the other’s warm embrace. My legs want to stop but my heart doesn’t so I continue to sprint, kicking the flurries up to the sky as I go.

And then he’s holding me. Holding me like he used to when I was a little girl. I think of the baby pictures, the ones filled with his smiling face while I cry like there’s no tomorrow.

“I missed you,” I sob into his Navy uniform. he was here with me now and I didn’t have to worry one more day that he would never come home. He’s here with me.

He strokes my auburn hair softly. “I missed you too, baby,” he says, “I love you.” He gives me a kiss on the cheek. His deep coffee brown eyes stare into mine. He smiles. I hug him again as the hot tears pour softly down my cheeks.

After breaking from our embrace, he lies in the snow, flapping his arms to create a snow angel. I lie down and join him. We laugh and smile and cry happy tears a little more.

“It’s like when I was little,” I say, looking over at him. “Do you remember?” Despite having lived in the south, we would go to Vermont every once in a while to my Grandma's cabin. I always loved making snow angels there. He returns my glance and nods with a smile. He continues to stare at me, his eyes now glassy. “You’ve grown up, baby. You’re so beautiful.” Before I can reply, he stands up and attempts to dust the snow off his wet pants.

He gives me another smile, extending his hand out. I grip it firmly as he pulls me up until I am standing. I wipe my eyes.

“You probably want to go back to the house, don’t you?” I ask with a sniffle. “I can make macaroni and cheese.”

He nods, his grin still bright and shining. “That sounds great.”

We begin to walk back to the little house we call home, leaving the impressions of our happy figures behind.
The house has seemed so empty the last few years. My Aunt Gracie lives with us, but she mostly stays to herself; sleeping and watching Ellen for the most part. I’ve felt all alone this whole time. But finally, everything is normal again.

As I begin to set the table and prepare the microwavable mac and cheese that will have to pass off as dinner, I can’t help but smile. He’s home.